Pride Of The McReary
by Schizophillic
Summary: Meet Darryl McReary, the latest McReary to enter Liberty City. After the funeral of Katie, Darryl is determined to restore the family status to the good old days. But in a world of guns, glitz, crime, money and betrayal, can Darryl take over Liberty City?
1. The Cousins McReary

Pride Of The McReary

Chapter 1: The Cousins McReary

The mobile phone vibrated loudly against the dark oak table that had Irish designs hand carved on the legs. The famous Irish tune played beautifully to an empty room.

"…_Or when the valleys hushed and white with snow, 'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow……"_

The tune and the vibrating stopped after a while and was followed a beep and went to voicemail.

"_Er, hey. This is Darryl McReary. I can't take your call right now, fuck knows why, so just leave a message after the beep." _Another beep had occurred and the caller started talking.

"_Darryl, it's your cousin. Patrick McReary." _He sounded shaky, like he had just been crying. _"I'm calling because……because…It's Katie. She's dead…her funeral is coming up soon and…well, y'know."_ Packie had sounded bleak. _"Please come…It'll mean a lot to Ma…and me and Derrick and the family. Whoever is left anyway…Gimme a call when you get this message..." _sighed Packie before hanging up.

A full hour after the phone call, a young man in his early 20s entered the home. With medium length shaggy chestnut brown hair, a build that boasted some muscle, a somewhat thick Irish accent and a golden shamrock necklace around his neck, the young man was Darryl McReary. The 6'2 ft Irishman took off his old but durable black motorcycle boots and tossed them lightly to the shoe rack. He walked through the small hallway, glancing at portraits. There was him, his parents who are both dead, his older brother Robert who was in the army fighting some war in the Middle East and could be dead at any time then his younger brother, Steve who might as _well _be dead as he abandoned the family, ran off with a suitcase of stolen money and severed all contact.

Darryl entered the kitchen and took a can of previously opened Guinness from the black refrigerator. Practically chugging down what was left, he placed the empty can onto the green marble kitchen surface and looked over to the table where his phone was. "Huh. So I did leave my phone here." Darryl wiped some Guinness off his lips and checked his phone to find two missed calls and two voicemail messages. _"Hello, this is Martin Fox from Whiz Wireless. I was wondering if you are interested in -----" _Darryl had almost immediately stopped the message in annoyance. "I'm sick of these fuckin bastards calling me to ask about my phone or if I'm interested in some shitty deal." said Darryl. He scrolled over to the next message.

"_Darryl, it's your cousin. Patrick McReary. I'm calling because……because…It's Katie. She's dead…her funeral is coming up soon and…well, y'know. Please come…It'll mean a lot to Ma…and me and Derrick and the family. Whoever is left anyway…Gimme a call when you get this message..."_

"Shit…." Darryl sat down in shock after hearing the message. He and Katie were close, just like how he was close to the other McReary's like Packie or Gerry. Darryl had never expected to hear that Katie was dead because she was the only innocent McReary who was never involved in crime. He knew that people like Packie, Darryl, Gerry, Francis and Derrick were probably destined to burn in hell for their activities but Katie; he would've thought she'd find the right person and grow old with whoever she loved. "It goes to show how messed up the world can be." sighed Darryl. He called Packie briefly to tell him that he would make it and turned on his laptop to book a first-class ticket to the 'Worst Place in America', Liberty City. After all, the flight to America is very long and Darryl can't stand being on an airplane or as he calls them, 'Tin Cans with wings' so travelling in luxury would make things slightly better. "Time to pack and get an early night." Darryl immediately got upstairs to pack and lamented not being able to bring his valued customised firearms, meaning he'd have to buy some crude weapons when he gets to the seedy city of Liberty City.

_The next day, Tuesday 6:03 am._

Darryl stepped out of his house, wearing a dark pinstripe suit with an unbuttoned white silk shirt and black suede shoes, with two suitcases that were mostly filled with clothes. A dark green Huntley Sport with custom painted Shamrocks on the doors and golden rims on the tyres was parked on the road. A tall and intimidating muscular man wearing a red striped tracksuit stood, leaning against the door with a cigarette in the mouth and Irish Hip-hop playing on the radio. "Darryl! What's up bucko?" The man greeted in an Irish accent a lot thicker then Darryl's as he threw the cigarette to the ground to fist bump Darryl. "Hey Gazza. I owe ya one for this. My car isn't working and I ain't got the time to fix it." Darryl sounded thankful. "Forget about it mate. Go an' lock up the house while I put the suitcases in." said Gaz. Darryl locked the doors to the house and checked the windows while Gaz had put the two suitcases into the trunk. The two got into the Huntley Sport and drove off. "So where ya going? Somewhere nice?" Gaz turned down the stereo to make conversation. "Liberty City." paused Darryl to open the tinted windows. "I'm going to a cousin's funeral." "Shit. I'm sorry about your cousin." sympathised Gaz. "It's alright. She's up in a better place now while we're still stuck in this hell-hole they call life." Darryl remarked and Gaz had let out a deep laugh. "How fuckin true. How long ya stayin for?" The Huntley Sport stopped at a red light. "Dunno. For as long as I have to. Tell Terry and the boys that I said goodbye." replied Darryl. "I will Darryl. I will".

The two hour long car ride had ended. Gaz parked the Huntley Sport outside the terminal and helped Darryl unload the two suitcases. "Well, this is goodbye. Gimme a call sometime yeah? You better come back or I'll come to America and drag you back me'self." Gaz had practically bear-hugged him. In a friendly way of course. "I will. I don't know if I'll come back for a while though. I might not at all. I've got family over there that need help and…. it'll do me good to leave Ireland. There's more to life then fighting, footie and Guinness." sighed Darryl. "Alright but keep me posted boyo." Gaz got back into his Huntley Sport. They waved goodbye to each other before Gaz drove off. Darryl walked into the terminal and got into the line for the check-in desk. Unsurprisingly, it was a long queue. Eventually, it got to Darryl's turn and he passed both his ticket and passport to the man. "Darryl Seamus McReary…" muttered the man as he checked on his computer while Darryl put his two suitcases onto the baggage belt. "Everything checks out, Mr McReary. If you would like to make your way through airport security and to the departure lounge." said the dark-skinned man. "Cheers." Darryl took his ticket, passport and walked over to airport security on the other side of the terminal. Having no hand luggage with him, he put his mobile, watch, necklace and rings off so that he could walk through while his stuff was getting inspected.

After getting his stuff back, he went straight to the boarding lounge in Gate 25 where he is supposed to go. To his relief, an announcer had said that the flight to Liberty City was available for boarding and Darryl was among the first to enter the plane. He sat on one of the comfortable brown leather chairs that were only seen in the first-class area. Followed by a few businessmen, they were envied by a few passengers. Of course, who wouldn't be when you have to sit in Economy with personal space no bigger than inside of a box. After a short moment of waiting for any late passengers and one of those safety videos that you don't really pay attention to, the plane took off and for the duration of the long journey, Darryl mostly just watched whatever was on those plane TVs or slept. He couldn't stomach any of the cheap airline foods and the businessmen were too…snobbish for conversation. He slept once again until the pilot had waked him up from his long slumber.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentleman. It is approximately 11:12 am American Time. We will be landing at Francis International Airport in Liberty City shortly." announced the pilot. Darryl looked out the window and could almost see the whole of Liberty City. He could see the rich, economically successful borough of Algonquin with its buildings touching the clouds; he could see the run-down area of Bohan in all its decrepit glory and Darryl could see the ethnically diverse Dukes. Yet, with all these sights, Darryl was thinking about Katie and how the other McReary's have been. He wasn't exactly a psychologist when it came to grief and if he didn't know that then how could he deal with a funeral? It wasn't that Darryl had never been to a funeral, he had been to plenty; it was that he could never cope with losing a loved one. When his parents had died, he felt so torn up that he'd always snap when their names were mentioned.

The plane had touched down and landed on the airstrip. After a shaky but otherwise skilled landing, the plane was positioned and passengers were able to leave. Darryl stood up and sorted out his expensive suit quickly before leaving the plane. He got his two suitcases after practically barging through crowds of passengers and walked past a few of the airport shops before going through another door. Hundreds of people were crowded around the airport, waiting for arriving people or waiting for something else. It was packed, even by airport standards. He could see signs with various names scrawled on various signs being held up by people in fancy chauffer uniforms. Darryl could hear the loud murmur of the people which wasn't doing any justice to his jet-lag. But it wasn't the crowd he was interested in. He was looking for Packie. A yellow taxi was 'just a license to steal' in Packie's words so he offered to pick him up. "Where is he?" Darryl asked himself as he wandered around. There were so many people; it would be hard to distinguish his cousin from hundreds of faces. Trying to shout for him would be pointless as he'd have to scream from the top of his lungs to be heard over the crowd. And he wasn't that foolish. Taking the best decision, he left the terminal to escape some of the noise and took out his phone to call Packie. "Packie man, where are ya?" asked Darryl. "I'm comin, don't worry." grinned Packie before hanging up. As soon as he hung up, a green Cognoscenti parked up next to Darryl and the doors opened "Shay! My man." Packie hugged his cousin. "Shit Packie, it's been too long." laughed Darryl as he let go of Packie. "If only Katie could see ya now…" Packie had sounded less enthusiastic as he opened the trunk. Darryl could see in his eyes that he was more devastated with Katie's death then he was letting on. "Sweet ride Packie. You steal this shit?" Darryl was admiring the Cognoscenti and got in. "Nah man, it dropped outta the blue sky. Of course I fucking stole it." laughed Packie, closing the boot and getting in the car. "I wish that Ma, Derrick and Gerry were here to see ya, Shay." said Packie as he started the car and drove off. "What's up with your Ma and Derrick? How long is Gerald in the slammer for?" Darryl opened the windows. "Ma's friends took her out to cheer her up a bit, Derrick was jonesing for a hit so you can guess where the damn smackhead is and Gerry is staying in jail for a long time." replied Packie. "Speaking of drugs, you should lay off the fucking chop Patrick. Pretty soon, you'll care more about coke then women and _that _is terrible." Darryl never approved of his cousin's cocaine habit in the past and he still didn't. "Yeah yeah Shay, you ain't the boss of me."

Eventually, the car pulled up next to a block of houses. "Savannah Avenue. Hasn't changed one bit." Darryl started to reminisce a little, like an old sage decades older than his youthful self. "Yeah, it's been like what, 10 years since you last visited?" said Packie, turning off the car. Darryl and Packie went into their house with the two suitcases. Seeing everything the same as it was brought even more memories back for Darryl. "Don't just stand there like an idiot, go and sit down. I'll grab us a few beers." said Packie, heading to the kitchen. Darryl walked to the living room and sat down on the tattered sofa. Photos of the McReary family were on the walls and the walls had a few cracks from back in the day when the McReary boys had fights every so often. The one crack in the wall that stood out was from when Darryl and Patrick had a particularly gruesome fist-fight with Francis. The copper was Darryl's least favourite cousin; he had many traits that Darryl hated. A hypocritical snake of a cop who hid behind some shiny rent-a-cop badge and used the lowest of blackmail tactics. "Aye, I remember that crack you made in the wall." laughed Packie as he saw what Darryl was gazing at. "Here Shay, the finest beer to come outta Ireland." Packie passed him a pint of Guinness. As the two cousins conversed, a loud thump came from upstairs followed by some mumbling. "Probably Derrick." sighed Packie as he drank down some Guinness. Soon enough, footsteps and the creaking of the staircase was heard and Derrick stumbled into the room. "I thought you were going out to get smacked outta ya head?" "I ain't got enough money. Curse me demons…" Derrick mumbled. The heroin addict looked up like he only just realised his cousin was there. "Shay? Seamus?" asked Derrick. "Hey mate." Darryl stood up to hug him and realised just how long it was since he last visited. "I'm…glad to see ya Darryl…" said Derrick between breaths, stumbling down to the sofa. "Did you fall from Cloud Nine or some shit?" Packie commented as he shook his head at Derrick's heroin antics. "Shut it Packie…I've just got a fucking headache…and I'm…." sighed Derrick and before the pair knew it, he fell asleep. "Forget him, let's go for a ride." The two left Derrick to his sleep while they got back in the Cognoscenti. "You mind if I drive?" asked Darryl. "Sure, as long as you don't wreak the car. It may not be mine legally but I went through a car chase with Liberty City's finest to get this car." Packie tossed the keys to him.

"_Yo, this is DJ Mista Cee on tha mic!!! Next up, this is 'Dandy Cop' by my man, 50 Per-Cent! Later on, my boys 'Liberty MC' and 'Dizzy Riz' will be steppin into the studio for a lil'freestyle so don't be turning!" _

Darryl raised his eyebrow and changed the radio station to something more ambient. "It's time to do a little sightseeing, Shay my boy." said Packie. They drove around the Dukes area before moving into the 'Russian' territory of Broker. "Now I see why America is so fat. Look how many goddamn Burger Shots and Cluckin Bells there are. Could probably kill you faster than a bullet to the brain." Darryl had glanced at the several fast-food places with disgust. "Since when did you become Gillian Mc Fucking Keith?" joked Packie as he raised an eyebrow. Darryl drove past the burnt out remains of the old taxi depot and the bowling alley before nearing the 69th Street Diner. As they stopped behind a line of traffic, Packie asked him a question. "Shay my boy, what do you think of Liberty City so far?" Darryl hadn't taken his eyes off the road. "It's alright. Not very different from Ire-" Darryl was interrupted by a deep, Russian sounding accent and the fact that a Deagle was poking at the side of his head. "Get out the car very slowly or I'll blow your head off!" Darryl didn't flinch while Packie just gazed at the man slyly. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Packie sounded too cocky for the Russian's liking and his trigger finger was itching. Before he knew it, Darryl dragged the Russian by the arm into the car and gripped his arm in a lock so tightly; the Russian released his Deagle while screaming his head off. Managing to wriggle his arm out of the tight grip, the Russian ran into the alleyways while hurling all kinds of insults. "If you're gonna kill the bastard then you're gonna a better weapon then that cap gun." Packie had pointed to the glove compartment. The glove compartment had a Desert Eagle inside with a few clips. Darryl opened the door and ran after him like lightning. "Go on, Shay." Packie said coolly before driving off.

"Fuck with me, you're fucking with Russian Mafia, dipshit!" The Russian shouted before knocking over a few bins. "You're just another fresh-off-the-boat punk!" Darryl leapt over the bins and fired two shots. One bullet barely missed the guy's shoulder while the other made a hole in a trash bin. "Slippery little fucker aren't ya?" smirked Darryl. The Russian ran onto traffic. Darting to the nearest vehicle, which was a taxi, the Russian slugged the taxi driver and pulled him out before accelerating. Darryl watched the taxi 'speed' off and a Dark Grey F620 just happened to be there amidst all the chaos. "Mind if I take this off your hands?" asked Darryl as he attempted to drag the driver out. Seeing as he was a mere corporate pencil-neck, the driver was soon flat on the ground with gravel on his face while Darryl wasted no time in chasing the little Russian.

"Come on. Stop and let's talk like reasonable people. While I smash your face against a brick wall." The F620's engine roared like a supercar out of Top Gear. It drove elegantly like a stallion and handled twice as well. The rugged taxi was struggling to escape the F620's horsepower and swerved out of control, into a particularly bulky pick-up truck. Leaving the crushed and now un-driveable vehicle, the Russian tried to crawl away pitifully as his blood left small drops on the dull coloured road. The Irishman casually stopped the car and started to rev the engine. Knowing that death was imminent, the Russian accepted what was coming and stopped in his tracks. "Go ahead, kill me! When they find out I'm dead, they'll cut your balls off! Sergei, Josef, Dejan, they'll all gut you!" Darryl just ignored his grimace expression and let go of the brakes. The F620 trampled over the now-deceased man at quick speed. Looking at the rear-view mirror, Darryl cared more for the bloodstains and dents on his newly acquired car then he did for this Russian man whose name he never got. "Russian Mafia? Heh, they don't even know who the fuck I am." Packie's green Cognoscenti parked up beside him soon enough. "Saw your car chase, Shay my boy. Your driving skills ain't half bad. Should do some street racing sometime." Packie took a look at the corpse while Darryl just pondered about the names the Russian man mentioned. The sirens started wailing in the distance but neither batted an eyelid. "C'mon, let's get outta here." Darryl motioned and the two drove off, leaving the body for the LCPD to find. Unbeknownst to the two of them, they were being followed and watched earlier by a Japanese Yakuza in a flashy suit with a flashy yellow Comet to match. "A McReary boy eh? And a decent driver too. Aniki (Japanese Honorific for 'Older Brother' or 'Superior') might want to know about this."

_The next day……_

The house was silent as the grave. The glaring red sun was already above with the aqua-blue sky. Today was the day of Katie's funeral and only the sounds of chirping birds or beeping cars every now and again broke the silence. Darryl seemed to be the only one downstairs, already fully clothed in a black suit. He spent the night in Katie's bedroom and although it was clean and nicely decorated, Darryl still felt a premonition. Like he was trespassing. Maureen, or Auntie McReary as he still called her, said it was nothing to worry about but it still didn't put him at ease. Maybe it was just the loss of a loving cousin like Katie that kept him up. Dinner yesterday was as silent as today. Auntie McReary cooked up a delicious pot roast with juicy beef that still kept Darryl full even now. No-one had said a word during dinner or even afterwards, no-one knew what to say. The family was shrinking with Gerry in prison, possibly for life, and Katie and Francis both dead. Who was going to be next? Auntie? Derrick? Patrick? Or even Darryl himself? "No." Darryl said to himself. He decided that it wouldn't let anything happen to his family. He felt as though he could've stopped it. Maybe, maybe he thought. If he had been here earlier, maybe Gerry wouldn't be incarcerated and maybe he could've saved Katie. Francis was a give or take because Darryl couldn't guarantee he would ever have saved him. With the family persuading him, Darryl decided to live here in Liberty City permanently. Eventually, he would go back to Ireland but his place right now was with his family.

"Darryl, you're up early." Darryl glanced over his shoulder to find Auntie McReary, also already dressed and ready for the funeral. They wouldn't have to go for a couple of hours. "Couldn't sleep?" Auntie McReary walked over to a cupboard and took out two coffee mugs. "I know what'll help, some good old-fashioned Irish coffee." As Auntie McReary stared brewing two Irish coffees, Darryl couldn't bring himself to say anything. Ever since yesterday, Auntie started clinging onto him a bit. It was normal from Darryl's point of view; she lost three of her children after all and she wanted to cling onto her few remaining family members. Darryl just stared into the cream of the coffee while Auntie was putting on a brave face for her nephew's sake. "I miss her….." said Darryl, breaking the silence. "How do you do it? How do you cope with losing Katie?" Auntie put her arm around Darryl to comfort him. "When you've lost two of your children, you get used to being so sad. Kate, she was special and she loved you like a brother. She's in a better place now, in heaven, watching over us." Auntie McReary let out a comforting smile and it worked. Darryl smiled as well; even it was a little one. Though he lost belief in the supposedly glorious religion he grew up with and questions it to this day, he daren't say so to his religious auntie. "Now drink your coffee and I'll cook us a nice fry-up while we wait for those boys." Auntie had finished the last of her creamy coffee and got up to prepare breakfast. Though a normal person wouldn't see it, Darryl could see that she was near breaking point. It was admirable that she soldiered on. But that's who she was. An admirable person. Packie walked in, all neatly suited up. The cocaine addicted comedian that Darryl grew accustomed to was not there today. In his place was an empty shell of a man. "Packie?" Darryl placed a hand on his shoulder and the only reply he got was a simple nod. A thud came from upstairs, like something fell on the floor. "Derrick. Probably the only one who could sleep." commented Auntie McReary. "I wonder how he was able to get some sleep if none of us could." Darryl glanced up briefly at the ceiling. "He could sleep through a fire, ol' Derrick." Darryl could tell that Packie tried to crack a joke but it came out bleakly. After Derrick came down, the four ate breakfast in silence like last night. Darryl could barely eat stomach anything. He felt like his stomach was in knots and just wanted to get the funeral over with. The doorbell rang and all four of them almost jumped. "I guess it's time." Packie said, lowering his head. Leaving their plates, they walked over to the door and a bald man clad in a black suit stood with his head down too. He seemed older then Derrick and had a certain…aura about him, like a sage. It's probably nothing, Darryl thought. "Are you ready to go?" The man asked. Packie replied with a simple nod and while Packie closed and locked the door, the three men and Auntie McReary approached the cars. Two black Feroci's were parked with a Romero hearse in between. Katie's coffin was lying at the back, surrounded by big flowers. Auntie McReary pressed her hand against the window and cried immediately. Darryl hugged her and gave her a shoulder to cry on. "It's alright Auntie, it's alright." Darryl repeated himself over and over while getting a tear or two in his eyes. "C'mon Ma." Derrick guided Auntie McReary to one Feroci while Packie and Darryl went to the other one. "Oh God Shay…." Packie clutched his head and Darryl put his arm around him. "C'mon cousin. It's alright. We'll get through this." Both men got in the Feroci and the chauffer waited for the signal to go. An arm stuck out of the hearse window, giving the signal. The three cars started driving at a slow pace and started their journey to the church in Suffolk, Algonquin.

Packie was still clutching his head in pain. "Packie?" Darryl put his arm around Packie once again. "I'm alright, I'm fine." He shrugged off Darryl's arm. "I just…Just can't believe this is actually happening. I can't believe that Katie is actually dead and we're actually going to her funeral and we're actually not dreaming." Packie let out a few tears while Darryl struggled to keep his emotions in. "Shay…What do I do? I don't know what to do. The family is falling apart, the family is no longer like it was back in the day and my life is wasted on fucking chop!" Packie raised his voice in anger or despair. "Don't worry Packie. I'll help us restore the family status, I ain't going anywhere. But lay off the fucking chop first Packie. No wonder the family isn't as powerful as back in the day when you're snorting money up your big nose." Packie tried to laugh but he couldn't so he smiled a little. "Fuck you Shay." Packie said jokingly. "But I'll say one thing that you probably won't fucking hear from me again. You're right. Gerry was doing a fine job running the family until he got hauled in, Lord knows Derrick ain't exactly Napoleon what'shisname and because of me, we're nothin more then hired guns, whoring ourselves out to guido mafias who are too lazy to scratch their own asses." A sigh passed his lips before he carried on. "Now's not really the time to be talking about that. We should be thinking about what we're going to say at the funeral." Packie took out a rough piece of folded paper from his pocket and on it was scruffy writing. "A speech huh?" Darryl had then forgotten that he was going to speak as well. "What about you Darryl? What are you going to say?" Packie asked. "I'm just going to wing it." Darryl replied after a long thought.

The cars arrived at the church in Suffolk where a lot of cars were already stationary. Many of her colleagues at work or friends had good memories of her so it was no surprise that there was a big turnout. Packie felt shivers down his spine as he looked at the church, which seemingly looked old and out of place with the modern, high-tech skyscrapers of Algonquin. The fact that Francis's funeral was here and now Katie's was here made both him and Darryl feel another premonition, like when he was in Katie's room. "Why does it have to be the same church?" Packie mumbled. Darryl stepped inside the worn-out church to find it already packed. The first row was reserved for the McRearys while every other row was for Katie's friends and acquaintances. Quite a few distinctive people caught his eye. On the second row, there was a fat Serbian man accompanied by a pregnant Puerto Rico woman. Behind them were two Jamaican looking men with their heads down and a bald muscular man strangely flexing and talking to himself. Darryl also noticed a rather effeminate man crying dramatically at the back. He turned around to see Packie outside conversing with another Serbian man who contrasted greatly to the fatter man. This man, he looked trim and had scars on his face. He had a look about him; like a wounded soldier. Packie called him over and Darryl got a closer look at the man. Though Darryl was taller and slightly more muscular, he would still think twice about taking on a man like him. "Shay, this is Niko Bellic, a hard-ass Slavic hitman who arrived to Liberty City fresh-of-the-boat. Well, ex-hitman nowadays. Niko, this is my cousin Darryl, an equally hard-ass killer fresh from the green pastures of Ireland." Darryl and Niko both shook hands quite firmly. "Hello. Packie tells me a bit about you." Niko glanced briefly at Packie. "Yeah, I bet he does. So, how do you know Katie?" Darryl asked, assuming Niko was perhaps just an acquaintance or work colleague. "I was her boyfriend...I loved that girl." Darryl was taken aback a bit. He didn't think Katie would have fallen for a Serbian hitman like Niko. "Ah....so, ex-hitman?" Niko nodded. "Yes, I have gotten out of that world. For my cousin, for his wife and for his child. I own a small construction firm now." A brief silence occurred before Packie broke it. "Shay. You go inside and take a seat. I'll take care of things." Darryl nodded and walked back up the stone stairs. He walked down the aisle and took a seat at the first row next to Derrick. "Is Gerry coming?" Darryl glanced behind, eager to see him. He was hoping that Gerry would at least be allowed to attend his sister's funeral. "No idea Seamus. Gerry got into a prison fight not too long ago so I've got no idea." Darryl shook his head. After what seemed like hours, the last of the guests came in and Gordon Sergeant had shut the wooden church door. The vicar had stepped up to the podium and Darryl took a deep breath as the hardest time of his life was about to come.....


	2. Angel At Rest

**Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the GTA series or any of the cities and characters but I do own my OC characters.**

**A/N: Yeah, this is Chapter 2 of my GTA IV fanfic. I am doubting that I'll get many reviews but I'll keep writing the story in my spare time as usual because I intend for this story to be long-running. Got plans for this story =) I'm quite a fan of GTA IV, although I don't play that much anymore, so if you wanna play online (Xbox Live) then message me :) Even better if you're a GOW 2 player. **

Pride Of The McReary

Chapter 2: Angel At Peace

The church doors soon opened again as Packie, Niko, Gordon and three other men carried Katie's coffin to the front before going back to their seats. While the priest shared kind and genuine words about Katie's life, Darryl's head went cloudy. Some of the priest's words didn't sink in while other words started echoing in his head. While the priest started talking about what an angel Katie was, how she brought happiness into the lives of everyone and even reciting a few passages from the Bible, Darryl clenched his fist and held himself together from crying. All Darryl could think about was how he wanted to get away from this church. How he didn't want to see Katie's gentle and pale body at peace in the coffin anymore. Soon, they all stood up and sung a few hymns, the ones that were Katie's favourites before sitting down again. One by one, members from the McReary family stood up at the podium and gave their emotional speeches. By this point, the funeral seemed like a daze to Darryl. Darryl couldn't focus when they started delivering their funeral speeches. Not when Auntie McReary spoke of Katie's childhood. Not when Derrick spoke of how Katie was pure, a rarity in a city full of impureness. Not when Patrick broke down a few sentences into his speech and had to be escorted back to his seat by Gordon Sargent. Only when Derrick nudged him, did Darryl come back to reality. "Darryl?" whispered Derrick when it was Darryl's turn to speak. The young Irishman stood up to the podium and casted a look below, seeing dozens of eyes looking back at him. Some were in tears as the previous speeches struck their hearts.

Darryl did not prepare a speech but instead, spoke right from his heart and mind. He dug up cherished memories that he shared with Katie and spoke heavily about how Katie will live on in his heart and mind. He spoke of how Katie was one of a pure kind and how Katie was the strongest person he'll ever know. When Darryl began, he stumbled a few times and had to hold back his tears but as he went on, Darryl spoke powerfully. So much so that even though his speech went longer then the others and that his thick Irish accent sometimes made it hard for some to understand, everyone listened. When he finished, he breathed a sigh and sat down, receiving praise from his family. "Katie would've been proud to hear you." Auntie McReary said as she held Darryl's hand.

After a while, people started leaving the church in order to follow the hearse to the burial ground. The hearse left first after Katie's coffin was put at the back, shortly followed by the two Ferocis with Derrick and Auntie McReary in one, Darryl and Packie in the other. Many cars followed suit behind them while others went in different directions to the graveyard. "Shay…" Packie's throat sounded dry. "Thank you." Darryl was staring outside the window, at the rush hour of Algonquin. "What for?" Darryl asked. "For being here, that's what. For being here at a time when me, Ma and Derrick were hit hard." Packie replied after clearing throat. "It's okay. I want to be here, with you and the family. I was sick of being alone in Ireland with my family all gone." Before Darryl could continue, Packie interrupted him. "You've got family here Darryl. And don't you ever fucking forget it." The both of them shared a hug, with Darryl patting him on the pack and Packie embracing his cousin, in a manly kind of way.

* * *

As the morning sun became noon, the cars arrived at the cemetery in Steinway, deep in Irish territory. Packie and Derrick made sure Katie was not buried in Colony Island like Francis because he disregarded his family roots and "Didn't deserve to be buried among true Irishmen and women." – Which were Packie's words. This time, Darryl, Packie, Niko and Gordon carried Katie's coffin to her grave, which stood near an old oak tree. From the oak tree, there was a beautiful view of the open shimmering sea as the sunlight hit the water. They carefully lowered the coffin in the plot of land and the priest gave a few words as they buried the coffin. "Goodbye Katie. Heaven is waiting for ya." Packie sighed. Everyone stood in silence for a moment's silence as the wind dispersed a few oak leaves before leaving. "Let's go Shay. We'll take Ma home then I'll take you to the pub. We both need a few drinks." Darryl didn't take his eyes off Katie's tombstone. "I'll catch up in a minute." Packie understood, knowing that he wanted a moment by himself. Soon, Darryl was by himself. Next to Katie's tombstone, surrounded by big bunches of flowers with tearful goodbye messages. "Why did it have to be you, Katie? Not you…You didn't deserve to die so young." Darryl leaned beside her gravestone and released his emotions, finally. Tears were finally able to break through Darryl's barriers as he sobbed. He didn't cry this hard when his father died. Nor did he cry this hard when his own mother died too. "Are you okay?" A gruff voice said behind him. "No…For fuck sake, how can I be?" Darryl stood up and wiped his tears with his suit sleeve before turning around to see Niko. "I….I was with her. When she died…" Niko said as he offered a tissue. "How did she die? Did she die peacefully?" The Serbian nodded. "There was a man and he…he shot her. I don't think she suffered." Suddenly, anger overcame Darryl and the Irishman grabbed Niko. "Who?! Where is this fucking man?! I'll make him suffer! How dare he kill…" Darryl was stricken again with sadness. "Who would kill such an innocent woman…?" Darryl left Niko at the gravestone, to join Packie, Derrick and Auntie McReary. But he left without knowing the full truth. Without knowing Niko's role in Katie's death.

* * *

The McReary boys dropped off Auntie McReary at the family home and switched cars to Patrick's Cognoscenti before driving to the Steinway Beer Garden. As soon as they stepped into the Irish pub, Darryl was hit with nostalgia. "Just like the pubs in Ireland, eh Seamus?" Derrick said as they walked in. The pub was adorned in wooden furniture and had Irish decorations to give it that authentic feel. Darryl could tell the McReary family were well-renowned here as there was a portrait of Derrick hung up. As the boys walked in, they were greeted with condolences and commiserations of Katie's death. While Derrick hit the bathroom and Packie talked to a group of Irishmen, Darryl sat alone at the bar. "Lampard shoots, he scores! And Stamford Bridge is going absolutely crazy as they are now 3-0 up against Liverpool! Absolutely cracking game for Chelsea this is." Darryl glanced at the TV, which was showing an English football match on ESPN. Although his favourite team was playing, he was in no mood to celebrate the goal. "Here. You look like you could do with a pint." A pint was placed in front of him. "No thanks, I---" Darryl looked up and was stunned by what he saw. His heart was immediately stolen by this beautiful barmaid in front of him. She was short, seemed to be younger then Darryl, had a slim figure and wore an Irish barmaid costume which complimented her figure. Her hair was a light chocolate brown which was just past shoulder length. Her eyes were like a pair of light green emeralds, lighter then Darryl's. Her delicate lips were a pink cherry colour. Aside from the lipstick and small amount of blusher and mascara, her beautiful features were natural. She looked like the kind of girl whom 'beautiful' wouldn't even begin to describe. "I……" Darryl seemed speechless, which made the barmaid giggle a bit. "I heard about Kate. She was a really good friend of mine, a good person." The barmaid put her hand on Darryl's, giving her condolences. Unlike most of the people here, she had an American accent as opposed to an Irish one. "Thank you. I'm Darryl, Katie's cousin." Darryl smiled genuinely, the first time he did so today. "Nice to meet you Darryl. I'm Jasmine." She smiled back and both of them shared a look before Jasmine had to break away. "I-I have to go serve someone else. Maybe I'll see you again sometime?" The barmaid smiled before leaving Darryl to his pint. Just as Darryl was about to enjoy a fine glass of beer pulled by an angel before Packie interrupted his pint. "Shay, we gotta go." Packie pulled away his phone. "At least let me finish my pint. You brought me here for a drink after all." Darryl was still looking at Jasmine, whom was aware but tried to hide it. "I'll explain on the way. Get in the car and wait while I get Derrick." Packie gave the keys to Darryl before stepping into the bathroom. Quickly drinking some of his pint, Darryl left the pub but exchanged smiles with Jasmine before leaving. He entered the car and started the engine. Darryl idly tapped the steering wheel before turning on the radio.

It didn't take long until Packie came into the car but he came without Derrick, surprisingly. "Where's Derrick?" Darryl couldn't help but ask. "That fucking smackhead decided it was a good idea to get dosed up on heroin just after his little sister's funeral. Didn't he say he ain't got no cash? He better not have stolen no cash from us…" Packie was fuming. "We can't just leave him in the bathroom Packie." Darryl pointed out. "It doesn't matter; Gordon will take care of the bastard, just drive Shay." The car started driving but Darryl didn't yet know where they were going. "Ol'Derrick would slow us down if he came anyway…But look. The reason why I dragged you away from your lass –Yes I saw you two lovebirds- is because, starting today, we McReary boys are gonna put ourselves back on the map." Packie leaned in to set the sat-nav. "I got a phone call from an associate of mine and he's got a job for us." Darryl seemed weary of this. "I thought you told me that you were sick and tired of whoring yourself to guido mafias?" Packie shook his head. "Nah nah nah, he's not Italian. My associate told me about a drug deal that's going down tonight. Seems like the Triads and one of the wop families are dealing in cocaine." Darryl seemed weary of this, again. "I thought I told you to lay off the fucking chop?" Again, Packie shook his head as he ignored Darryl's sarcastic tone. "We're not hijacking the cocaine for me, you idiot. It's simple, we wait until the deal goes down, then we kill both of them and take the cocaine and the money. We keep a cut of the money and another cut of the money when my associate sells the cocaine. You got it? You enjoy a good ruck, right Shay? Of course you do." Darryl sighed and nodded. "So where are we off to then, Packie?" Darryl started following the directions on the sat-nav. "First, we need some ammunition and some firepower. Of course, we can't turn up to a fire-fight with water pistols now can we? Then, we gotta find out the location of said drug deal. Which means you, gotta go to a club. And it's gay night." Darryl almost stopped the car. "W-what?! Did I just hear you say I gotta go into a gay night? What are you saying Packie, what the fuck are you saying?" Luckily, Packie wasn't making any jibes about his sexuality. "Goddamn it Shay, calm down. There's an informant who knows about the drug deal and I know that he hangs around in Maisonette 9. But he knows who I am and will run out the back door if he sees me coming for him. I ain't saying you gotta have sex with him, just do whatever to make him talk. If it helps, just think about the cash we'll get. If that doesn't help then think about the McReary family returning to the top. And if that doesn't help then you think about Jasmine." The car sped up to the gun shop.

* * *

After purchasing a couple of guns from the local backdoor gun shop, they went home to get changed and kill off a few hours before heading to Maisonette 9, at 9pm. Packie changed into his normal attire of jeans and a green shirt while Darryl changed into a flashier grey suit with a purple sweater vest and purple tie. "Damn Shay, you look like you've been shopping at Savile Row." The two of them set off to Maisonette 9 in Algonquin, where they went through tactics. Packie parked the car a few blocks away from the club. "Here, that's the informant. His name is Sebastian Vandervelde" Packie gave him a Polaroid of a scrawny blonde Caucasian man dressed rather eccentrically. "I'll be here if you get in a ruck." Packie couldn't help but laugh, prompting Darryl to giving him the middle finger before walking off. After waiting in line, he approached a dark-skinned doorman, who searched him for any weapons before letting him in. Darryl walked down the stairs and into a mob of raving clubbers. "Shit, how am I gonna find this guy?" Darryl looked around but couldn't see much beyond the ravers. He headed for the bar nearby, being greeted with the "_Hello_ sailor!" by a few people on the way. "Excuse me; I'm looking for a guy called Sebastian Vandervelde. He's an old college buddy of mine." Darryl was about to show the bartender the photo but it seemed like he knew the name. "He's with Mr. Prince and Mr. Amir in the VIP room. Should I let him know you're here?" Darryl declined. "I'll surprise him." He walked away in search of the VIP room.

Making his way past the mobs of ravers, he could see one of the VIP rooms. Through the glass doors, he could see Sebastian. Two bodyguards were guarding the door, much to Darryl's annoyance. He decided to wait by the men's bathroom and did so for five minutes until he could see his target walk out of the VIP room to his direction. Darryl went into the men's room and pretended he was using the hand dryer until Sebastian walked in. They both exchanged glances before Darryl started his plan. "So, you're Sebastian Vandervelde?" The blonde man dressed in eccentric colours turned around. "Why, yes I am baby. Who wants to know?" Sebastian winked at him, making Darryl want to roll his eyes. "I er…saw your picture online and I must say, you look stunning in person." Darryl winked back, much to Sebastian's pleasure. "Where have _you _been all my life?" Darryl could tell this was going to be easy so he put his arm around and decided to deliver the line to get him out of the club. "What do you say we skip the drinks and go right to my place?" He barely finished his line before Sebastian dragged him out of the bathroom and out of the club. Packie was laughing to himself at the sight from his car. "I didn't think you had it in ya Shay." As the two of them walked past Packie's car, Darryl secretly winked at Packie, prompting him to get out of the car and follow the two from a distance. As soon as the two were about to walk past an alley, Darryl threw Sebastian into the alley and grabbed him against the wall while Packie joined Darryl. "What is this?! What's going on?! I don't owe anyone any mo--" He stopped when he saw Packie. "You McReary boys are nothing but trouble! Just take my money and leave!" Darryl shook his head. "It's not your money we're after. We want the location of the cocaine deal going down tonight." Much to their annoyance, Sebastian decided to play innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about!" This prompted Darryl to punch him hard across the face. "Don't give us that bullshit. There's a deal going down between the Triads and one of the Five Families and we know that you know." When Sebastian shook his head, Darryl and Packie started beating him up until he finally squealed. "Stop, stop! I'll talk." Darryl helped a bruised and bloody Sebastian get up before holding him up against a wall to make sure he didn't run. "The deal….it's going d-down at Charge Island...Where the baseball field is…" Sebastian paused to cough out some blood. "At midnight…You didn't have to hit me _that_ hard...I bruise easy…" At that point, Packie started to leave but Darryl took Sebastian's phone out from his jacket pocket and crushed it. "Just to make sure you don't go telling anyone about our little meeting." Darryl then left him to join Packie in the car. "Charge Island it is." They drove off in direction of Charge Island at full speed. "Alright, here's the plan Shay. We wait until the families arrive then I'll watch your back, sniper-style, while you slaughter everyone. Both of us will hijack the vehicle carrying the cocaine and the cash. We deliver the stuff and done, we get some hard-earned cash. Simple?" Darryl couldn't help but make a comment. "Life is never that simple, Patrick."

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**A/N: Please give me a review. It'd be nice to hear what you readers think of my story =] Chapter 3 coming soon.**


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